


Call Me Sonny

by wordhouse



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-23
Updated: 2015-03-23
Packaged: 2018-03-19 05:41:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3598506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordhouse/pseuds/wordhouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yet another first day on yet another new job for Dominick "Sonny" Carisi Jr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Call Me Sonny

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blithesea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blithesea/gifts).



All the rejection was starting to get to Sonny. He tried not to let it bother him, and failed. What was wrong with these people? Did they not see what he had to offer? This was almost as good as sex. Oh well, more for him. He popped another zeppola into his mouth and licked the greasy powdered sugar off his fingers. Their loss.

“You’re Detective Carisi.”

Sonny turned in his new chair at his new desk and rose from the seat, putting on his smiling, first-day-at-work face. “Dominick Carisi Jr. But call me Sonny, everybody does,” he said and held out his hand. The man in front of him didn’t look like a detective or officer. Not in that suit. With a tie like a flag. Who dressed like that? Was he lost? Was he on his way to a garden party? Wasn’t there some rule about wearing almost-white before the Fourth of July or after noon? If he ever wore something like that, it would be stained with day-old pizza and coffee before he got to the door. And his neighbors would mug him.

The man regarded his hand as if it were a used Kleenex. Oh, right. Finger-licking good zeppole. Sonny smiled harder and pulled his hand back to scratch at the back of his head.

“So you’re the one I have to thank for telling Luna Garcia she would qualify for temporary immigrant status,” the swanky suit said.

“Carisi,” Sgt. Benson said from behind the newcomer, “this is Assistant District Attorney Rafael Barba. He’s the primary ADA assigned to this precinct.”

“Wow, you’re an ADA?” Carisi knew that was the wrong thing to say as soon as he said it, as Barba tilted his head and cut him with dark eyes as sharp as glass. He got the very distinct impression that the suit barely contained a beast. He really was making friends everywhere he went.

“You’re just so much younger than other ADAs I’ve worked with,” Sonny added quickly. And none of them dressed as if they were going to a wine and cheese tasting. Was that a hanky in his pocket? In some sort of origami shape? That matched his tie? A tie that looked like a stained glass window? Sonny wanted desperately to see his socks. He wanted to see him in his underwear.

“In the future, detective, don’t try to do my job,” Barba said as he straightened the cuffs of his dressy shirt. The half-size wannabe fashion model caught his gaze and held it. It was unnerving how much Sonny could not look away. He did not want to be on the wrong side of him in the courtroom. “I don’t care how many mid-term essays you’ve written on immigration law. Play lawyer on your own time.”

Ouch. The Sarge had told him. Everything. Meant she was still annoyed at him. Next stop, the Bronx. He should have kept his mouth shut, but as always, his mouth was always one step ahead. “I don’t know what the big deal is,” he said. “Everyone uses these tactics. As long as it’s not ‘patently coercive,’ there’s nothing wrong with misleading a perp.”

Barba’s eyes got even sharper. Definitely a bruiser. Sonny wondered what he was trying to hide with that fancy suit and pocket origami. You could take the boy off the street ...

“And when you use those tactics, you leave the District Attorney’s Office very little with which to negotiate. Miss Garcia doesn’t want to talk about anything but her temporary immigration status.” Barba checked his wristwatch and lost all interest in him, eye contact mercifully broken. “As it so happens, she may be a viable candidate under the statute. As a favor to your sergeant, I will get her in touch with a real immigration lawyer, but only after she is through assisting us.”

“That’s awesome, sir. Thank you,” Carisi said, with another big smile at the little jerk. 

Barba squinted at him again, as if he knew he was bullshitting, as if he had a six-sense for bullshit after eviscerating so many people on the witness stand, but he shrugged and turned away. “Sgt. Benson, I still need to talk to you about that raid and how none of it will be admissible.”

Sonny knew when he’d been thoroughly dismissed, and was almost glad for it. Sinking into his chair, he watched the assistant district attorney do the catwalk strut into his boss’ office. The balls on him. Damn, but he wanted to be him. Or do him. On the first available desk. So very hard. Mess up that pretty suit. Which he did not want to be thinking about on his first day at a new squad after playing musical jobs for four months. The last thing he needed was for the whispers to follow him here.

Rollins leaned toward him from her desk. “Don’t worry, Carisi. Barba acts that way with everyone. I think he got a law degree in sarcasm.”

“Yeah?” Sonny said, embarrassingly glad that someone was being nice to him. “Guess I’ll have to make a better second impression.”

Rollins grinned and pointed to the corner of her mouth. Of course. Sonny sighed and brushed the crumbs and powdered sugar off his mustache. “You’re going to get sick if you eat all of those,” Rollins said with a chuckle. “Gimme one.”

Sonny decided he loved Rollins best. He snagged the bag of zeppole and held it out to her. “Call me Sonny”

**Author's Note:**

> For my cupcake. I would blame her for all of this, but I'm the one who introduced her to the Barisi.


End file.
